All Chapters of Hellblades: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Manolya’s POV They took me to another room. The corridor felt so long and bright. The fluorescent lights hummed above my head, turning everything into a harsh white blur. My wrists already hurt from the cuffs, the metal biting into my skin every time the officer tugged me forward. When the heavy door finally opened, a wave of colder air hit me. The interrogation room was smaller than I imagined. Four walls, all the same dull grey, a table in the middle bolted to the floor, three chairs, a camera in the corner with a red light glowing. The kind of room you only see in crime shows, except this time I was not watching from a sofa at home. I was the one chained to the table. They sat me down without a word. The metal chair scraped loudly against the tiles. Then came the sound I was starting to hate more than anything. The rattle of chains. They attached the cuffs to the ring on the table and shackled my ankles to something at the base of the chair. I tested it instincti

Mr Mehmet’s POV The chief’s office was dim, the blinds half-closed and cutting the late afternoon light into thin grey stripes across the floor. Dust floated lazily through the air each time the radiator clicked on. The whole room smelled faintly of old coffee, paper, and the weight of unsolved cases. Chief Serdar Kılıç sat behind his massive oak desk, shoulders rigid, eyes sharpened by exhaustion and something much older. I closed the door behind me and stepped inside. Chief Serdar did not bother with pleasantries. “What happened, Mr. Mehmet?” Serdar said as he looked up from the stack of papers in front of him. His voice was clipped, but there was a tremor under it, the kind that comes from too much stress and too little sleep. I walked toward the desk, keeping my voice low. “I just came from speaking with Emre,” I said. “And things are escalating faster than expected.” Serdar’s brows drew together. “Escalating how?” “Manolya confessed,” I said. I watched his reaction, th

Emre’s POV The sterile hospital smell still clung to my clothes. Disinfectant, old people and stale coffee. It followed me all the way down the corridor, into the parking lot, and then vanished as I stepped inside my black Mercedes like where a scented figure of a strawberry hanged. It was Manolya’s favourite. I started the engine and let it idle. The dashboard glowed soft and clean, a small luxury that felt obscene after watching my daughter in chains. Eren got in beside me without a word. The door shut. The silence inside the car was heavier than the door itself. I drove us out of Akyaka city with both hands on the wheel. Streetlights and palmtrees slid past us in blurry stripes. Pamukkale. The white cotton mountain. The cave. The place reminded me so much about all the things I tried to forget because forgetting was easier than facing what I had allowed into our lives. Eren stared out the window at the passing buildings. His profile looked carved from stone. The br

Serdar Kiliç’s POV I sat behind my desk, my office cloaked in shadows. The warm glow of daylight had vanished and only darkness clung the room. Case files lay open in front of me, but I hadn’t touched them in a long while. My eyes skimmed the pages without reading. Grief had a way of dulling everything else. The loss of my daughter had haunted me, and the search for answers had led me here. As my mind drifted, I thought of my daughter growing up, her small hand in mine, the way she would laugh when I picked her up and held her close. Her warmth, her innocent joy, the simple act of holding her, so full of life. I missed that feeling, the precious moments when she was my little girl, safe and loved. I should have comforted my wife more. She had suffered most, bearing most of the weight of our loss, and I had not been there for her in the way I should have. I had to step up and stop drowning myself in work. The sharp click of the door echoed through the room, pulling me out of

Manolya’s POV Pelin was waiting for me outside the beach house, arms folded tight across her chest as if she could hold herself together by force. I slowed my steps, staring at the double doors. My stomach tightened. Home. I did not feel like I belonged here anymore. I remembered everything now. The betrayal. The twisting web my father had spun around me, thinking he was shielding me from the truth, when all he had really done was make it worse. He had taken my reality and bent it until it snapped. Pelin stepped closer and took my hand. “We need the car keys,” she said gently. “Do you not want to go inside? Do you want me to do it for you?” I squeezed her hand as if it was the only solid thing in the world. “No,” I whispered. “I’m okay.” My shaky breath betrayed me. Pelin’s gaze flicked over my face, reading me too well, but she did not push me further. I forced my feet forward. It took every ounce of willpower I had to lift my chin and push the doors open.